Heartless Demon
by himurotetsuya
Summary: I didn't remember being so goddamn stoic a few months ago, wasn't I the one who was always grinning like an idiot during class? Fucking around like it was some game that I could just start again by pressing a single button if it all went up in flames. I didn't remember being a hollowed out carcass a few weeks ago, wasn't I the one who was always making stupid jokes and making every
1. An Unwelcomed Realisation

CHAPTER ONE: An Unwelcomed Realisation

Heartless Demon

* * *

Onesided Rin x Shiemi  
Coarse Language  
Psychological  
Hurt/Comfort  
Rincentric  
Romance  
Tragedy  
Angst

* * *

I didn't remember being so goddamn stoic a few months ago, wasn't I the one who was always grinning like an idiot during class? Fucking around like it was some game that I could just start again by pressing a single button if it all went up in flames. I didn't remember being a hollowed out carcass a few weeks ago, wasn't I the one who was always making stupid jokes and making everyone laugh? Feigning stupidity to make everyone warm up to "me". I didn't remember being so fucking heartless a few days ago, wasn't I the one who tried to help everyone to the best of my ability? Hoping to some sort of god that they would believe that that "person" was me.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** AO NO EXORCIST NOR DO ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME.

* * *

"Go back to Gehenna, demon!"

"Why are you still alive? Go die."

Just a normal day for me. People glared and muttered darkly as I passed them, my mouth never opening to say anything about the obvious bullying as I walked down the hall toward class, where "my" friends where waiting for me to arrive so they could start the lesson.

What am I talking about? They aren't my friends; they're somebody elses, my persona's. That's right. Before I even fucking tried to fit in with them, before I even met them, I had already prepared another person to take my place as "Rin Okumura" so they wouldn't see the darkness that lurked inside of the scabbard. Fucking coward. I had gotten so caught up in the europhia I'd felt when I was pretending to be this other person I had created, that I had forgetting about the real me through the progression of the act, becoming the fictionary character from the script. I failed to remember why I didn't use the sword, I had failed to remember why I had to hide my true nature along the way aswell, hell, I had even buried the fact that I was even a demon deep in the crevasses of my brain, hoping that the fantasy my mind had invented would become real if I kept the act up long enough. But no, it did not happen. I tried and tried to be this amazing person that I had created but the mask soon lost it's effectiveness, breaking into pieces when I unsheathed the sword, forgetting that they would see the real me if I did. But I continued to pull it out despite the consequenses, remembering a little too late when I felt the heat of flames engulfing me.

Reality had hit me hard that night, but I still tried to keep the act up, tried to mend my mask in hopes that they'd still think that I was the "person" who had befriended them with a stupid grin plastered to his face, but they were not decieved by my disguise. They had caught a small glimpse of me that they could not believe belonged to the "Rin Okumura" they knew, they could not fathom that their "Rin" was a demon, let alone the son of satan. They'd quickly figured it out after thinking about it for a few days. That's when my hell began.

The first thing that had changed was how everyone addressed me. It wasn't the friendly "Rin" served with a warm grin anymore. Not even a sincere "Okumura-kun" escaped not one of their mouths. It was either a cold "Okumura" with a forced smile or "Demon" which was accompanied by a crude sneer, normally delievered by a deep mocking voice.

Second was the way everyone acted around me. The laid-back atmosphere that usually filled the room was replaced by hatred so heated that it managed to suffocate me every so often, choking me with it's large heavy hands. It's thick fingers constricted around my throat like a snake would asphyxiate it's prey, tightening around my jugular with every spike of hostility and negative comment. Sometimes it had a small vibe of that akin to fear, afraid that I'd turn around and start slaughtering the lot of them, burning them with the azzure flames that I had hidden underneath my skin.

The third was probably the worst. It was they way they treated me. They would make crude jokes about me, about my appearance, my blunders, everything that they could twist into something to feed their boredom. They would pull pranks too, fill my locker with demon-repelling talismans and the majority of them involved drenching me in holy water. Last week, this group of boys thought it would be funny if they poured three buckets filled with triple-concentrated holy water onto the spawn of satan, to see how I reacted. It was fucking hilarious. They had all jumped out at me in the middle of the hallway, buckets filled to the rim with anti-demon liquid and proceeded to overturn them over the top of my head simutaneously. I screamed as soon as it touched the skin of my scalp, probably scaring the living shit out of most of the oblivious people in the large hallway. I had dropped to my knees as the liquids poured down onto my head and back, holy water drenching my shirt until it stuck to my burning skin, bloody roses blooming across the white cotton of my school uniform. I felt like I was kneeling in a waterfall of boiling acid. The scorching pain seemed to last an eternity. As I had continued to scream in agony, they just laughed with the small crowd they had gathered and watched me writhe in pain as the liquid bored deep holes into my skin. That was, until the buckets were empty. They fled as I had just knelt their shaking like a wet dog, whimpering slightly as my flesh knitted together at an excruciatingly slow and painful pace. They did other, awful things but I'd rather not remember those incidents. All in all, they treated me like they would any other demon, except they could fuck with me anytime they pleased.

In the early days of my secret being brought to light, the group of teens "I" had befriended cornered me and asked a single question that I could not fathom the answer to, no matter how long my mind dwelled on the subject, I couldn't answer them even if I wanted to. It baffled me to the extent that it made me angry that I didn't know how to respond to their queries.

"Who are you actually, Rin?"

That's a great question. Who am I? Am I a good or a bad person? Am I a human or a demon? I don't know. I had lost the me I used to know and the person I had created in desperation for escape from reality, so who am I? I am still trying to find out the answer to that.

I placed a hand on the doornob, twisting in sharply to the right before pushing the wooden door open, hinges shrieking loudly with their unoiled voices, filling the silent room with squeaky screams. I walked in the classroom, ignoring the scornful glares that were aimed at me as I made my way toward my desk, the one I shared with Shiemi, who failed to stifle a gasp when I pulled the chair from underneath the table and collapsed onto the wooden seat. I didn't look at her. I try not to do it anymore, not after the way she stared at me with her teary, emerald eyes that night, green filled with dread when she realised what I was. My innards twisted everytime I caught a glimpse of her fearful expression when our eyes met by accident, heart sinking deep into my abdomen everytime I heard her unsteady breathing when I was anywhere near her. It hurt to look at her.

I laid my head down over the top of my crossed arms and nuzzled my nose into the crook of my elbow, shirt sleeve warming my face as I breathed into the thick cotton clothing. I buried my face deeper into the sleeves of my black blazer, covering my forehead downwards with the heated material, weariness pulling down my eyelids and lulling me to sleep.

* * *

"... n..."

"... -san..."

"... Nii-san."

A groan escaped my throat as I looked up to locate the source of the noise that had awoken me from my slumber. Yukio was who I found standing in front of the desk. He looked at me with his cold turquoise eyes, void of emotion and face habouring nothing but his usual stoical expression. I wish he'd stop looking at me like that. It's like he's glaring at a pitiful creature caged up at a zoo.

"Nii-san. It's time for your next class."

"Does it look like I give a fuck, Yukio?"

When I had opened my mouth to reply, I hadn't expected that to come out. I thought something like an "M'kay" with an uninterested tone to escape me, not a tactless sentence said in a deep voice that seemed something akin to sandpaper; rough and coarse. My tone had been monotonous and flat, lacking any sort of feeling. Is that my voice? I haven't heard it in a while but, is that what I really sound like? Yukio didn't seem to care in the slightest. He'd just ignored my rude mannerism and raised a single eyebrow in puzzlement.

"Is something bothering you, Nii-san?"

"Your bothering me. You've been bothering me ever since the old man died. Hell, even before that, with your constant 'Nii-san'. Nii-san this, Nii-san that. Am I even your brother? I mean, your not a demon and we are nothing alike. How do we even know that we're twin brothers when we don't know who our real parents are? You could just be this random kid thinking at I'm your older brother when your not."

Did I just say that? What the fuck is wrong with me? I wasn't even thinking that- I would never think about something like that! And 'your bothering me'? I sound like some bratty teenager thats rebelling against his parents.

Yukio's apathetic expression lifted from off of his face like someone'd removed an imaginary mask from his head, his pent-up emotions displayed on his face for the first time in three months. His turquoise eyes widened in shock as his jaw unclenched enough so that his mouth was agape slightly. Pure bewilderment was exhibited on his visage.

"N-nii-san? Nii-san, wh-why would you s-say that?"

I just stared at him. I didn't know how to answer my younger brother's question, so I just sat there. I didn't react when Yukio's eyes began to water with tears. I didn't even flinch when his hands slapped down onto my desk in frustration. "Why would y-you say that?!"

He screamed for the first time since he was five, when I had accidentally ripped one of the pages of his books and his face had burned so red that steam seemed to pour out of his ears. I had felt guilty because it was the first book the he'd ever owned, so why don't I feel guilty now? Why aren't I doing anything? Why isn't my face contorting in remorse? Why is it that all I feel is void? That didn't change when a bead of water rolled down Yukio's cheek. He was crying. I made my younger brother cry. _Why_ isn't my heart throbbing? _Why_ doesn't it hurt? _What's wrong with me?_

I had to get out of there. I had to escape.


	2. Delirium

CHAPTER TWO: Delirium

Heartless Demon

* * *

_I had to get out of there. I had to escape._

The chair tipped over when I stood up to run away, eliciting a loud noise akin to the sound of a clapper from the wood on wood collision. I tripped over my own feet before I could make it out of the rows of desks, slowing my sprinting down into a stagger as I continued towards to door. Yukio screamed my name with a croaky voice when I bursted out into the hallway and into the forest of humans. The corridor quietened in silence—apart from the murmurs that circulated the room—when I appeared in the middle of the hall. I could feel eyes boring holes into my form as I dashed through the scores of students and pushed past anybody who wasn't fast enough to move out of the way of my path.

What the fuck was that back there? Why did I say that? Why would I even think that? Why didn't I react to anything? Why doesn't it hurt anymore– Oh fuck. I remember now. I did this to myself. It hurt so much during the first week back at cram school after the incident at the training camp. It made my heart clench with the isolated feeling of loneliness; made my stomach fill with apprehension and anxiety; made vile crawl up my throat in self disgust; made me think I was some sort of monster. So I took it upon myself to lock any sort of emotion in a little cage in my heart, so all of the pain would just fucking stop. It worked. Now all I can feel in nothing. Numb to the emotional anguish of the people around me and the venomous poison my tongue spits at anyone who–

I fell to the floor with little less then an ouch, but I couldn't say the same about the other person. They whimpered and whined as they rolled about the floor in a hot pink kimono with their hands glued onto their head, green eyes watering with tears– Wait... Green eyes? No. Not now. Please. Anybody but her. Why'd I have to bump into her? The student on the floor looked over at me with widened eyes and tears streaking their face.  
"R-Rin?"  
I froze. I didn't answer. My tongue stuck itself to the roof of my mouth; my lips grew too heavy to lift open; my teeth interlocked so tight that I could barely swallow the saliva accumulating at the back of my throat. I just stared at her. I must of freaked her out because she started to fidget underneath my gaze. "Are you okay?"

Okay? No. I'm fucking not. That's what I would of spat out at her but something inside of me clicked, like someone'd turned a key to open the lock on my cage. Not fully, but enough to make something squeeze out of the slim opening of the floodgates. Someone actually asked me if I was okay for the first time in weeks and I felt this weird tingling sensation in my stomach that made me panic. What the hell is that? Fear.

I attempted to stand but my legs wouldn't carry my weight. I tried to speak but something had formed at the back of my throat that made my voice sound raw. Shiemi gave me a small smile but that only forced the imaginary key to turn even more, letting slip the emotions I had locked away deep down where I had hoped no one would enter. Where I thought no one would want to enter. But Shiemi managed to delve deep into me and push her small hand further than anyone has before. The eternal void that had consumed me had retreated back into the dark recesses of my mind and left me to fend of the impending flood of feelings by myself.  
"Rin?"  
I ran. I didn't apologise to Shiemi nor did I help her to her feet before I decided to leave the scene with my tail in between my legs—metaphorically. I sprinted down the hallway before she could even turn her head of blonde locks to see me push though the door that led to the outside world, where the sun sat high in the bright blue sky and mocked me from its perch with its blinding rays of sunshine that promised unattainable happiness.

It didn't take long to reach the abandoned dormitories with a total population of two—familiars not included—nor did it take anymore than five minutes to clamber the three flights of stairs, to zigzag through the scores of vacant rooms and make it into my shared dorm room. I slammed the door behind me and threw myself onto my bed with a sigh, but not before fumbling with the locking mechanism attached to the doorframe so my younger twin couldn't come in and start screaming at me. I snatched the heap of quilt from the end of the bed before snugging into the multiple layers of bedding and let the build up of exhaustion and emotional strain pull down my eyelids. A black haze settled over my mind as I began to drift off, the mist fogging my brain and dragging me into the realm of nightmares for the first time in weeks.

* * *

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of screaming. I shot up into a sitting position and looked around the room from my place on the matress to see where the shrieks where coming from, only to find that I was the source. I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth to silence the shrill yells that wanted to escape my esophagus, quietening them down into ragged pants. What was I screaming about? Was it a nightmare? And then an inkling of hope presented itself to my semiconscious self. What if yesterday was just a dream? A surreal illusion? Another cruel prank?

I dropped my hands from my face after a throaty chuckle had wormed its way through my barracade of fingers, placing my hands on my lap and allowing the laughter to grow into nothingness. What if it was all just a dream? All those months of pain and anguish just a figment of my imagination? A small smile of wry amusement twisted my expression into one of liberation. The irony stung like a molten metal being force-fed down my esophagus by a funnel. Of course it was real. Who am I kidding? Yukio? Shiemi? Me? No one, that's who.

I swung my legs over the edge if the bed, a groan escaped me in protest but I silenced my brain's pleas to get back into the quilts and stood up from the mess of bedding. I looked down at myself to realize that I was fully clothed in my uniform and shoes. Another exasperated grunt passed through my lips when I noticed all of the little wrinkles and creases that adorned my attire after further inspection. Is there time to iron my shirt?

I looked over at the digital clock that sat on the bedside table to see that it was eight-thirty and I was going to be late for the first lesson at cram school: demon pharmaceuticals: Yukio's class. Fuck. I quickly ran my hands over all of the new fold lines on my clothes in hopes of flattening them out but it didn't help in the slightest. I looked at the floor near the end of my bed where my bag usually was but that section of the wooden floorboards was clean of satchels and the kurikara hidden in the crimson cloth was nowhere to be found. I must have left it in class the other day. Double fuck.

I ran towards the door, turned the handle and smashed straight into it. Jesus christ. A growl erupted from the back of my throat as I fiddled with the shoddy lock on the old door, which opened with a loud screech of the hinges. I slammed the door open and sprinted down the narrow hallways, wishing to some sort of god that Yukio wouldn't be teaching the lesson that I was surely going to be late for.

* * *

Approximately ten minutes later, I arrived at cram school. Thirty minutes late. Fan-fucking-tastic. I opened the door that led into the main hallway with one shaking hand to find that the passage way was completely empty, of course. It was to be expected since I overslept and missed over half of the first period. I love walking into class and having everybody look at me like a freak. Not.

After a few minutes of walking down the corridor I realize just how naked I feel without the weight of my katana on my shoulder; just how vulnerable I feel when there is no weapon in my immediate reach that I can use; just how fucking scared I am when I have nothing to defend myself with if something happens. Where is kurikara? Does Yukio have it? Amaimon? Nah. That bastard is in Mephisto's private little teahouse with all the miniature cuttlery and crockery sets, right? He couldn't of escaped and stolen the sword during the time I left it in the classroom to play around again, right?

Why in the hell am I so paranoid? Is it because I'm walking down the normally bustling hallway which is now completely deprived of life? Is it because the light but reassuring weight of the koma sword is absent from my left shoulder? Or is it because I've been sensing eyes boring holes into my back for the last five minutes? Fuck, that can't be a good sign–

"Good morning, Okumura-kun~!"

"Holy shit–"

* * *

**A/N: **HOLY SHIT sorry for the wait... And the cliffhangers... And all the future feels I'm going to push into your face. Sorry. Not. :')


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